I got what I deserved, all right, he said numbly as he grabbed his third julep. But have no fear, gentlemen. Im getting back on the horse.

The table roared, men backslapping him, somebody pulling over a woman and shoving her forward. As she put her arms around his neck and leaned in to his body, he took what was offered, kissing her deeply, feeling her up even though they were in public.

Oh, Samuel T., she whispered against his mouth. Ive waited for you to do this to me forever.

Me, too, darlin. Me, too.

She didnt know him well enough to recognize the dead tone in his voice. And he couldnt have cared less about the enthusiasm in hers.

He had to save face somehow . . . or he wasnt going to be able to live in his skin for one goddamn minute longer.

Gin was so much better at this game than he was. If she hadnt just succeeded in shattering his heart into a thousand pieces, he would have given her props.

A s Lane pulled Macks pickup truck through the stone pil- lars of the Red & Black Stables, the alley of trees before him { 278 }.

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seemed a hundred miles long, the cluster of stables and buildings so far off in the distance, they might as well have been in a different state.

Proceeding forward, dust kicked up behind him, boiling in the morning light.

He knew this because he kept checking the rearview to make sure he hadnt been followed.

The cobblestone drive circled in front of the biggest of the barns, and he parked off to the side, half on the grass. No reason to lock up as he got out. Hell, he left the keys in the ignition.

One deep breath in and he was back in his childhood, when hed come out here to muck stalls during his summers off from prep school.

His grandparents had believed in instilling a good work ethic. His par- ents had been less concerned with so much.

Heading over to the caretakers cottage, it was difficult to believe his brother really lived in such modest quarters. Edward had always been a force of energy in the world, moving, always moving, a conqueror con- stantly looking for victory, whether it was in sports, in business, with women.

And now . . . this little building? This was it?

When Lane came up to the door, he knocked on the screens frame.

Edward? You in there, Edward?

As if he could be anywhere else?

Bang, bang, bang. Edward? Its me"

Lane? came a muffled voice.

He cleared his throat. Yes, its me. I need to talk to you.

Hold on.

When the door eventually opened, Lane saw his grandfather stand- ing before him, not his brother: Edward was so thin that his jeans hung like old- man pants from his hip bones, and he was slightly hunched, as if the pain hed suffered had permanently shifted his spine toward the fetal position.

Edward . . .

He got a grunt in return and some hand motions indicating it was up to him to open the sceen and come inside.

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Pardon me while I sit back down, Edward said as he made his way over to the chair hed clearly been in. Standing is not agreeable.

The groan was almost stifled as he lowered himself into position.

Lane shut the door. Put his hands in the pockets of his slacks. Tried not to stare at his brothers ruined face. So . . .

Please dont bother commenting upon how well I look.

I . . .

In fact, lets just nod and you can go. No doubt Miss Aurora made you come here so that you could attest to the fact that Im still breathing.

Shes not well.

That got his brothers attention. How so?

The story came out quickly: ER, looked fine afterward, still work- ing the brunch.

Edwards eyes drifted away. Thats her, all right. Shes going to outlive the rest of us.

I think shed like to see you.

I will never go back to that house.

She could come out here.

After a long moment, that stare swung back. Do you honestly think that being anywhere near me would do her good? Before Lane could comment, Edward continued, Besides, Im not one for visitors.

Speaking of entertaining, why arent you enjoying The Derby Brunch?

I got an invitation, which I found a bit ironic. I didnt bother to RSVP" a horrid breach of manners, but in my new incarnation, social pleasantries are anachronisms from another life.

Lane walked around, looking at the trophies.

Whats on your mind? Edward asked. You are never without words.

I dont know how to say this.

Try a noun first. A proper noun" provided it is not Edward. I assure you, Im uninterested in any soapbox preaching about how I should get my life in order.

Lane turned and faced his brother. Its about Father.

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23494.

Edwards lids lowered. What about him.

The image of Rosalinda in that chair was preceded by an auditory replay of Chantals voice telling him she was pregnant and not leaving the house.

Lanes lip curled up off his teeth. I hate him. I hate him so fucking much. Hes ruined us all.

Before he could start in with all that had happened, Edward put his palm out and released an exhausted sigh. You dont have to say it. What I want to know is how you found out.

Lane frowned. Wait, you know?

Of course I know. I was there.

No, no, he thought in shock. Edward couldnt have been in on the money losses, the debt . . . the possible embezzlement. The man was not just brilliant with business, but honest as a Boy Scout.

You couldnt . . . no. Lane shook his head. Please tell me, youre not"

Dont be naive, Lane"

Rosalinda is dead, Edward. She killed herself in her office yesterday.

Now it was Edwards turn to look surprised. What? Why?

Lane threw up his hands. Did you think it wouldnt affect her?

Edward frowned. What the hell are you talking about?

The money, Edward. Jesus Christ, dont be dense"

Why would the fact that Father wouldnt pay my ransom affect her?

Lane stopped breathing. What did you just say?

Edward rubbed his eyes like his entire skull hurt. Then he went for the Beefeater bottle next to him and took a deep draw right from the open neck. Do we have to do this.

He didnt pay for your release?

Of course he didnt. He has always hated me. I wouldnt put it past him to have engineered the entire kidnapping.

All Lane could do was stand there and blink as his head went rush- hour-traffic-jam on him. But . . . he told the press" he told us" he was negotiating with them"

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And I was there listening on the other end of the phone. That was not what was occurring. Further, I can assure you, there were . . . repercussions . . . to his failure to comply.

Lanes gut got to churning. They could have killed you.

After another lift of that bottle, Edward let his head fall back against the chair. Dont you know, brother . . . they did kill me. Now, what the hell are you talking about?

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THIRT Y- T WO.

S he was on a strange type of high, Gin decided as she walked with her new fiance among her familys guests, nodding to those who made eye contact, speaking when required to.

The cotton- wool sensation that had enveloped her body was something between a saturation- drunk and a Xanax bender, the outside world coming at her through a filter that slowed down time, thickened the air into a custard- like solid, and removed any sense of temperature from her skin.

Richard, on the other hand, seemed very alert as he told everyone about their engagement, the pride in his face akin to a man who had just purchased a new home in Vail or perhaps a yacht. He did not seem to notice the subtle shock that was so very often quickly hid" or maybe he didnt care about that.

You win.

As she heard Samuel T.s voice in her head, she took a deep breath.

Timing, timing, she thought. Timing was everything.

That and money.

Samuel T. and his people were very wealthy by any standard, but they did not have a spare fifty or sixty million to fill up the debt cavern { 283 }.

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in her familys balance sheets. Only the likes of Richard Pford IV did"

and Gin was prepared to leverage her newfound position as the jackasss wife to help out her kin.

But that was going to have to wait until after she put a ring on him"

A hold on her elbow brought her head around.

Richard leaned in. I said, come this way.

Im going to go inside for a moment.

No, youre going to stay by my side.

Looking him right in the face, she said, Im bleeding between my legs, and you know why. Thats hardly something I can ignore.

An expression of both shock and distaste tightened those features she was already learning to hate. Yes, do take care of that.

As if her body were a car with a dent that required fixing.

Walking off, she found that weeding around groups of people who spoke too loud and laughed too much caused her a prickling anxiety"